


Pardon my French

by Goldstein_1984



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Français, French, M/M, McLennon, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstein_1984/pseuds/Goldstein_1984
Summary: John tries teaching Paul French.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Pardon my French

**Author's Note:**

> Little McLennon fluff, because I like it. Hope you enjoy!

“Vive la France.”

Paul lifted his eyes from the various sheets of paper, notebooks and pens spreaded over his desk. 

“What?”

“I said Vive la France”, John repeated, and raised his arms in the air, grinning madly. 

“What d’you say? ‘Veev la Fwance’? What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“It’s French.” 

Paul let out a laugh. 

“Oh. Gotta say, it’s been quite a while since I’ve heard any of that stuff.” 

“I know plenty of things”, John smirked, as if genuinely proud of himself for remembering those sentences. “Wanna hear?”

Paul put aside the song he was working on and crossed his legs with a challenging, playful look on his face. 

“Sure.”

"’Je veux un sandwich.’ Guess what that means.”

“Hum… I’m eating a sandwich?” 

“Still not a Frenchman, you are”, John kidded. “It means ‘I want a sandwich’.”

Paul rolled his eyes, but grinned. 

“Go on.” 

John squinted as if trying to gather up all the words he could in his mind before saying : 

“T’as de beaux yeux.” 

Paul tapped his foot against the floor, thinking quite thoroughly. 

“Well, must be something like… Pretty eggs, or something?”

John laughed. 

“Close, but really not it! It’s ‘You’ve got pretty eyes’, silly.”

“Well, thanks”, Paul responded cheekily, fluttering his eyelashes in a caricatural effeminate manner. 

“Not you, ya git”, John smiled, slightly poking his shoulder. “Got another one : ‘T’es très idiot’.” 

“ ‘m not.” Paul mumbled. 

“Good, looks like you’re improving, son”, John said, ruffling Paul’s hair, causing him to protest lightly. 

John leaned forwards, elbows on the desk and hands under his chin, looking mischievous. 

“Now, that’s what you wanna say to get a bird in bed”, he said, grinning. “Tu veux baiser?”

“Must be something dirty, from that stupid look on yer face”, Paul laughed. “But I’m taking a guess with ‘Give us a kiss’ here.”

“Almost, almost! Much simpler than that, though. The good ol’ fashion : ‘Shag me’.” 

“And you call that the good ol’ fashion? No wonder you’ve got no birds, lad”, Paul teased. 

He was smiling widely, and John inched a little closer as if trying to intimidate him. It didn’t work, of course, since Paul only took the occasion to flick his forehead playfully. 

“Now, that’s the last round”, John then said, low-voiced, face serious but eyes bright with cheerfulness. “You wanted to be romantic, you get it, now this is your last chance of winning this contest…”

“I’m losing anyway, since you’re the one teaching me.”

“Shh, listen to the master”, John whispered. “What’s that mean : ‘Embrasse-moi’...?” 

Paul tried to recollect any knowledge he could have gained from the few French classes he had had, but this was like looking for a black cat at night; he didn’t even know if he had ever really learned something. 

“Well… Guess I’m stuck on that one” Paul finally gave in, wrinkling his nose. “What is it…?”

“Kiss me.”

And with absolutely nothing in mind, no further thought being able to explain this sudden foolishness, Paul leaned in and put his lips on John’s. 

They didn’t even last a whole second there. When Paul backed off, John looked startled. 

In fact, he seemed more startled than Paul had ever seen him be. He tried to say something. Of course, he should have said something. No matter what language he used - it would still be something, something that could justify or excuse his behaviour. 

“Why d’ya kiss me?” 

Paul’s eyes widened, and shifted abruptly to the floor. 

“Well… You asked me.” 

John chuckled softly. 

“I didn’t, silly. That was the lesson.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Paul wondered if John would somehow let it pass. 

“Looks like you still need those lessons, though”, John said with a smirk. “You suck at French.”

Paul shrugged and smiled. 

“I don’t suck. French sucks.” 

“I’ll show ya. Try to say it… The last thing I taught you… You remember it?”

“Was something like ‘Embwass mwa’... Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, exactly. Repeat after me, that’s how you get the words right.” 

Paul had never in his life imagined John being a teacher; but at that moment, as John was patiently waiting for him to pronounce the sentence correctly, even if it was only a game and they were being childish, he wondered what John would look like in front of a classroom. Probably scaring a lot of students, he thought. However, that thought made him want to try harder, as if trying to impress a teacher who would give him good grades.

“Embrasse-moi”, he said. 

And so John did.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I didn't make too many mistakes in that one... Feel free to point them out if you see some!


End file.
